Murder For Love

"Quite right, Bess," Nancy said as she remembered Mr. and Mrs. Owen. "But are all coincidences mysteries?"

"I don't think so, Nancy. Are you suggesting this mystery might better be left alone?" "A suggestion."

"Of course, Nancy, I do feel it might be better to let well enough alone. I usually do feel that way."

"Oh, Bess, you don't understand! The real mystery is why my sleuthing luck has failed. This is why I have my hopes pi

"I have been studying my books lately, trying to figure it out. The books show some things very plainly. For one thing, I always felt empty and sad at the end of each mystery because I hadn't begun the next mystery yet. Without a mystery I was nothing. That's how I have been feeling for years now-without the challenge of an old-fashioned mystery. I have been looking at the books to see if there are any clues to my father's death. There may have been a conspiracy from the begi

Bess, uncomfortable with Nancy 's profound questionings, now pursued the original mystery.

"What else have you learned about your father's untimely demise?" she inquired tactfully.

"There's this ivory igloo and the mysterious name of Draco S. Wren."

"What a strange name-like a code name. Or a vampire. Who is he?"

"A client of my father's. Dad was working on the case when he died."

"What do you know about him?"

"He lives in Alaska!"

"Oh, do you think he has anything to do with this ivory hunter?" Bess fingered the figurine dangerously, and she would have pricked her finger if Nancy had not rescued her in time.

"His name is in a file of current clients, so I call him a client," Nancy said. "The reverse may be the case, however, for in Father's bank statements there are several large checks made out to Draco S. Wren-a sum of over four thousand dollars paid just this year!"

" Nancy, it sounds like blackmail!"

"If this were a typical Nancy Drew teenage detective story, we would now be at about Chapter Five. Two distinct and separate mysteries have been introduced-the mystery of my father's death and the mystery of Draco S. Wren. There has been one mysterious message, half a dozen puzzling clues strewn my way by fate, one disastrous event, one maddening car chase (I did have trouble getting a parking spot yesterday), one adventure with Bess (saving you from the poison harpoon), and one bout with a rainstorm."

No one had ever explained why there were so many rainstorms in the Nancy Drew books, and so few wintry scenes.

"This Draco S. Wren sounds like a dangerous character," said Bess.

"His address is in the file, but I have not decided what I shall do about it. If I write to him, I may scare him away. It might be best to travel to Nome, Alaska, and do a little sleuthing. Could you and George pack a suitcase by tomorrow?"

"Really, Nancy, you can't still expect me to drop everything and join you on such short notice."

"Oh, I forgot about the offspring." Nancy was crestfallen. She brightened. "Shall we have some tea? Ha

Bess could hardly conceal the hungry gleam in her eye. During the refreshments, daintily served on an embroidered napkin and a silver tea tray, Nancy was thoughtful. Bess concentrated on several pieces of the sponge cake.

Nancy gazed out the window at the unending rain. It was inconvenient that Bess couldn't drop everything and hop in the convertible to pursue a mystery. She turned from the window.

"Bess, this new mystery must be kept secret from my fan club."

"Of course, Nancy," said Bess, rousing herself from the ecstasy of the sponge cake. She put away her knitting and headed for the hall tree. "I have to get home now, but if I might give you a bit of sisterly advice before I leave-I've never really said this before, but, well, I do think you shouldn't be alone."

"What are you trying to say, Bess?" said Nancy pointedly.

"You know what I mean, Nancy," floundered Bess. "It has been ages since you went to a prom or a barbecue with a handsome young man. You need an admirer."

Nancy had not dated anyone since Ned Nickerson married Bess. Nancy, being generous to a fault, did not allow the union to poison her friendship with Bess. Ned had been helpful on mystery cases at times when Nancy needed someone to fetch a clue from a high crevice, but Ned wanted too little from life.

Nancy did not answer Bess. She continued to gaze out the window. Bess said she must hurry home, for the day was at a close. The children would be rampaging, and Ned would be home with his football, ready to devour a horse or two. Bess hugged Nancy good-bye and whispered a message of cheer.

Nancy Searches the Files

The next day Nancy searched her father's files and found nothing significant. Frustrated, she began to look for hidden compartments in her father's bedroom. She was expert at such quests, having explored many mansions for secret sliding panels and hidey holes. Her favorites were in The Sign of the Twisted Candles. Nancy recalled longingly the ecstatic feeling of tugging on the little knob which opened the hidden recess in one old attic she had searched. It surprised her that she might be finding such secrets in her own home.

The task occupied the day, broken by a short interval when she shared an attractive luncheon of crab bisque, fresh peas, and lemon mousse with Ha

"Now, Nancy," she said. "Promise me you won't go ru

"I won't," promised Nancy. "I almost wish I could. Nothing exciting seems to happen anymore."

Looking through the mail, Nancy found a copy of her father's death certificate. She decided to store it with important papers in an old album in her father's safe. She opened the album, a worn red plush book with embroidered gold letters. The album reminded her of a coffin. Inside, she found several listings of births and marriages and deaths. She pored over them eagerly. She noticed the births and marriages of long-gone aunts and uncles, marveling that their deaths occurred on the next page. She could find no record of her mother's death. As she searched for clues in the antique album, the telephone rang. Nancy found herself talking to Draco S. Wren.

An Urgent Call

It was nine in the morning when Nancy rang up George Fayne. The telephone rang several times, with a frantic sound. Finally George answered.

"George!" Nancy cried exuberantly. "Oh, George. I thought you had already packed your gym bag for the day and left your room."

"I was bounding down the stairs when I heard the telephone."

"Listen, George, I think I am deliriously happy!" "Hypers, Nancy, this is great news. Have you solved the mystery?"

"Did Bess tell you about that?"

"Bess can't keep a secret-or whistle," said George. "Are we going to Alaska?"

"No. George. Listen-I'm in love."

" Nancy, you must be dreaming. Who's the dream fellow?"

"Draco S. Wren."

"Your mystery man?"

"Exactly."

"Bess is suspicious of him."

"I can take care of myself," Nancy said blithely. "I've managed to get out of dangerous scrapes before. But there's no danger."